porcelain, ivory, steel
by clarembees
Summary: in one moment roman had gone from never noticing natayla, to suddenly noticing her every move, and oh did he want her


_a/n: my primary inspiration was the image of tj using nattie as a shield during a match with roman, and i was also inspired by the line "people fall in love in mysterious ways" from the song "thinking out loud" by ed sheeran._

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><p><strong>~*~porcelain, ivory, steel~*~<strong>

"_**she's the kinda girl you wanna marry. the kinda girl you walk the whole earth for."**_

"_**wanna love you girl" - by pharrell williams and robin thicke**_

* * *

><p>"Uh-oh!" King yelped. "Tyson Kydd better watch out after what happened on Monday, Roman Reigns could be lookin' to send a message to Big Show and Seth Rollins!"<p>

_"A message?"_ JBL scoffed. "_A message about what?_ Roman Reigns got a taste of his own medicine Monday night, that's what happened. Seth almost got his head taken off by that cinder block, and wanted some revenge. Can you blame him?"

"Oh, come on, John!" Michael Cole chimed in. "Seth Rollins was _purposefully_ trying to injure Roman Reigns on RAW last Monday. He might as well have had Kane and some of those cinder blocks he likes so much ringside! He knew Reigns had been out because of that hernia injury, so he planned to crush him under the announce table!"

"Reigns has been cleared medically, so he's fair game just like everybody else! You don't see Bad News Barrett who's come back from a shoulder injury getting any special treatment. Why should Reigns?!"

"If I'm Tyson, I don't know if I'd want the lovely Natayla ringside tonight. This could be a dismantling!" King chortled.

"I agree, King, an angry Roman Reigns does not bode well for Tyson Kydd tonight."

"Listen to you two! For God sake's you're acting like Roman Reigns is the second coming of The Undertaker!" JBL screeched. "He wasn't even the best member of The Shield!"

* * *

><p>Pushing his hair out of his eyes, Roman glared at Tyson. "You <em>sure<em> you want your girl here for this, Kydd? I'm takin' no prisoners." He warned.

"I don't run scared." TJ shot back, chin jutting forward as he pushed Nattie away while she tried to whisper something in his ear.

"Good thing you showed up in black, Natayla." Roman told her, giving her figure in its tight fitting black dress, an approving glance before his grey eyes turned hard as steel. "You're about to attend your boy's funeral. Believe that."

"Ooooh, boy! Roman's prediction of Natayla attending Tyson Kydd's funeral does not seem far off does it?!" King crowed.

"You're right, King, Reigns has dominated this match from the outset." Cole mused, nodding his head.

"Hey, now," JBL interjected. "This match isn't over. Tyson Kydd is a capable wrestler who if he can mount a little bit of offense has got a chance."

"Yeah," King's tone was obviously sarcastic. "A snowball's chance in hell, maybe, JBL."

"Uh-oh." Cole's tone was grave as he watched Roman back into the far corner of the ring. Everyone in the arena knew what was coming next; the second generation wrestler's infamous spear. The deafening roar came first, his head thrown back and just as Roman was about to charge, suddenly Tyson had shoved Natayla in front of him.

"Oh my God! Am I seeing things or did Tyson Kydd just grab Natayla and shove her in front of himself as a shield?!"

_**"TJ!"**_ Nattie exclaimed, trying to wriggle free. _**"What are you doing?!"**_

"Just go with it. For once, damn it, Nattie can you fucking trust me?!" TJ griped in frustration.

"What are you talking about?! I always trust you, TJ, always." Nattie spoke softly.

"Then just stand still and don't move."

Nattie swallowed thickly, her throat visibly bobbing, as the stomp of heavy footsteps across the mat grew louder. An impressive shadow loomed and with frantic, pleading eyes she looked into steel grey eyes, praying she wouldn't end up like Stephanie after Randy RKO'd her.

She opened her mouth to speak, but no sounds escaped her trembling lips.

"Get your hands off her." Roman's deep voice was nothing more than a deadly growl. "You got two choices, Tyson, either you let go or I toss you outta this ring like a rag doll."

"It's okay," Somehow Nattie found her voice, though it was shaky. "I'll leave..." And as she tried to slip from TJ's hold, it only grew tighter, his fingers digging into the skin of her wrists. "TJ..." She hissed his name through gritted teeth, twisting her neck so they were face to face.

"You said you trust me..." Once again hurt crossed his features, blue eyes growing sad and before Nattie could utter another syllable, his fingers were pried from her wrists and then he was yanked away from her as one of Roman's large hands became clamped on his shoulder.

It was all a blur for Nattie, as suddenly, TJ was slammed into the mat by a Samoan drop. She could feel her entire body shake from the fury that engulfed Roman's handsome features. The sharp wetness of tears clouded her vision and she felt like she was in a tunnel as she heard the Samoan roar, while grabbing a fistful of TJ's hair, **"GET UP! GET YOUR WORTHLESS ASS UP! BE A MAN FOR ONCE, AND STOP HIDING BEHIND YOUR WIFE!"**

Shoving him back down, Roman stepped out of the ring, setting TJ up for a drop kick off the apron. His large foot, covered by the heavy combat boots, he always wore with his gear connected with the other man's stomach, sending him curling in on himself in pain.

Just as Roman was about to toss TJ's limp body back into the ring, most likely gearing to finish him off with his finisher the Superman Punch, Nattie was scrambling toward him on trembling legs. "Stop! Stop!" She couldn't help but wail, tears shining in her eyes and red lips trembling as she grabbed for Roman's hands.

The third generation wrestler knew what was coming. A weary TJ would, somehow, manage to stand and then he would be Superman Punched.

"You deserve better." Suddenly Roman's voice was no longer deadly but wrapped in velvet as he spoke seriously, steel disappearing and leaving compassionate grey. "I ain't doin' this for him. I think he's a worthless piece of crap, hiding behind you like that again. Next time," The velvet was gone, in its place was a deadly promise. "There's gonna be no mercy."

"Thank you," was hollowly whispered to no one as the big man had stepped out of the ring and walked back up the arena's steps, leaving Nattie alone in the ring with TJ.

* * *

><p>As a member of The Shield, Roman never changed into his gear in a locker room like the other Superstars and Divas. They changed in the arena's boiler room or in some random hall closet. Always off on their own. Keeping the element of surprise on their side.<p>

Now, he shared a locker with Ziggler, which was an experience to say the least. They had never been close, but then again, as 1/3 of The Shield who had he been close to outside of Seth and Dean? No one, really. Well, no one that wasn't Jimmy and Jey and Naomi. But they were family. And honestly, it's not like when he got called up to the main roster, he was looking to make friends.

Seth and Dean were enough.

Sighing, he shook his head, at the mess Ziggler had left behind after he changed into his gear. And he thought Dean had been a wreck.

The sound of the door knob turning, vaguely registered, as he side stepped – _seriously?!_ – a pair of boxer shorts that definitely weren't his, and as he lifted his head, he expected the bleach blonde man to strut through, but instead a sheepish looking Natayla slowly stepped into the room.

Her little nose with it's sharp tip wrinkled slightly, and he had to laugh. "Ziggler's a mess. I'd ask for my own locker, but with Hunter and Stephanie runnin' things again, I doubt they'd give me a broom closet to change in from now on."

Sympathy replaced sheepishness, though there was still a rosy hue highlighting the porcelain skin of her high cheekbones. "It's not like I can ask for anything either. Nikki's best friend is back in charge, remember?"

There was bitterness there and Roman shook his head. "Nikki should be careful where she's steppin'. Stephanie ain't throwing the welcome mat out for Brie."

"It's not Nikki that needs to watch her back, it's Brie. Stephanie got to Nikki once, and she'll do it again. I just hope Nikki doesn't let her insecurities get the best of her again. But what do I know about being insecure?" A poor imitation of laughter escaped perfectly painted lips. "I'm just the girl who runs around accusing everyone of trying to steal my husband."

Roman's grey eyes suddenly became sharp as they narrowed into slits, the blues and greys mixing, to create a storm inside his irises. "If you ask me, TJ's the one who's outta line. You got _every right_ to stand up for what's yours, to let anybody know they can't put their hands on your husband and flirt with him. He should be pushin' all of them away, anyway, not lettin' you get into it with the other girls."

He bit back a sigh as he watched Natayla's shoulders slump while her hazel eyes clouded over. He knew what was coming next she was going to defend TJ. He felt a pit develop in his stomach as he listened to justifications falling off painted lips, and how there was this lingering sadness in her voice.

"It's not that I don't trust him..." She started, and he had to interrupt. "Get outta here with that bullshit." The muscles of his perfectly cut jaw were clenched tight, and he was sure his whole body was bunched with tension, especially when she flinched slightly.

"If he ain't happy with a girl like you on his arm, there ringside every night, he should look in the mirror."

"I just, um, wanted to say..." It was clear the blonde wanted to change the subject, and the big man obliged her saying, "You didn't have to come in here and thank me for what happened last week."

"I felt like I did." Honesty was ringing clear in her tone. "We grew up in this business. Showing mercy like you did doesn't happen every day."

"It's not happening again. Next time, I'm holdin' nothin' back and takin' no prisoners like I promised before he decided to hide behind you."

"I understand."

As she turned on her heel, Roman found himself noticing, for the first time how the cut of her dress – a vibrant red – clung to her ample figure. Just like he found the flow of her corn silk hair alluring.

Suddenly the locker didn't smell like Ziggler's Axe cologne and sweat; it smelled like warm jasmine and lilies.

* * *

><p>Rehab had been such a <strong><em>fucking bitch<em>**, but in this weird way going to the gym felt like it did **_before_** he was injured. It still relaxed him, put him in a calm frame of mind and was the perfect source for letting out frustration and anger and aggression.

At least when he was unable to talk to his daughter on the phone or through skype and facetime.

Roman figured – _at nearly midnight_ – he would be the only one in the hotel's gym. Except for maybe some executive or business man running on the treadmill with that stupid blue tooth in their ear. Having been on the road for years now, he learned no matter what hotel you stayed at, there was always at lest one of those.

Instead of hearing the whirring of the treadmill or the sound of feet pounding against the rubber, Roman heard punching and grunting. He knew it wasn't Dean because Dean _hated_ gyms. He preferred running out into the desert and shadow boxing or climbing mountains. Lifting and punching bags and doing squats or using a leg press machine wasn't his style.

Briefly, he thought it might be Seth, but pushed that thought away. Mr. Money In The Bank using a hotel's gym?! Never! If he was working out at this hour, he was at some fancy cross fit gym, keeping them open just for himself like the stuck up brat he'd become since aligning himself with Hunter.

The muscles in his jaw were working overtime just thinking about it, and **_fuck_**, he thought as his hands clenched into fists, _**if i could just get my hands on that backstabbing bitch...**_ Red clouded his vision and he knew coming to the gym had been the right move. Earlier that night, once again, Seth – with the help of his goons – had managed to slither out of his grasp.

And with the sudden need to punch something searing his veins, Roman stepped toward the punching bag that was at the back corner of the gym.

Instead of finding another Superstar doing the punching and grunting; he found Natayla. Her breathing was growing heavier and heavier, her punches losing steam, until she was basically slapping at the bag with closed fists. Her skin was glistening with sweat and she looked utterly exhausted, shoulders slumping and chest heaving with exertion

"Hey," A voice as smooth as silk was in her ear, making her jump and whirl. She knew from the tone it wasn't TJ, but a small part of her – who was she kidding, a large part of her – hoped it would be. Instead of blue eyes, her weary hazel met grey. Mustering up the best smile, she murmured back, "Hey, Roman."

She sounded as exhausted as she looked, and the big man's brows furrowed. "Shouldn't you be asleep? It's pretty late."

"I could be asking you the same thing."

"I'm not the one who's got someone in their bed. What I've got is the need to punch somethin', and I doubt Hunter and Stephanie would take kindly to me wakin' up their golden boy to exercise that need. Bein' on west coast time I can't skype or facetime with my babygirl, so the gym'll have to do. Till I finally get my hands on Rollins, anyway."

"You _really_ love your daughter, huh?" There was a little lift in Natayla's shoulders and her tone, a slight shimmer coming to her otherwise tired hazel eyes.

"She's the reason I'm here. I had a decision to make after being released from the Vikings; whether or not to keep pursuing football or to be there for her. It wasn't really a decision, though. I was choosing her a hundred out of hundred times."

"Well, she's lucky to have a Dad as good as you."

"Nah, I'm the lucky one."

"Looks like you're not always so big and tough, huh?" A giggle was hidden in her tone, which was warmer, and Roman felt his heart lift inside his chest.

"I got a rep to protect, Neidhart." A smile curved at lush lips, his voice a warm velvet that felt like it was coating her skin. "Don't go spreadin' that around, all right?"

"Or what?" She challenged, arching a brow, while hazel eyes gleamed teasingly.

"I've _always_ wanted to take down **_a Hart_**..." His voice was husky like his words were being wrapped around her, and she felt heat bloom in the pit of her stomach. With flushed cheeks, she stammered, "I don't spread gossip," and in a flash she was gone, leaving behind warm jasmine and lilies once again.

* * *

><p>"Do you think she will, Daddy?" Talia was bouncing on the tips of her toes, looking at Roman with hopeful sable eyes as she clutched at her treasured autograph book with her tiny hands. The only Divas signature she didn't have was Natayla's.<p>

"I'm sure she will babygirl," He smoothed his hand over her tawny curls, laughing as she glared, button nose scrunched in disapproval. "You're messing up my hair! We have to fix it before I ask Natayla for her autograph! I can't ask if my hair's messy! Daddy!"

"Your hair's fine..." Roman started to say, but was quickly interrupted, "No, it's not! I have to brush it again! Natayla's hair is always so pretty, I want mine to be pretty, too, when I ask her to sign my book! Ugh," A frustrated groan escaped his little girl's pouty lips. "You wouldn't understand."

"I wouldn't understand?"

"No," She insisted with a stomp of her foot. "boys don't care if their hair gets messy."

"They _really_ don't do they?" A teasing tone entered the fray, one that Roman didn't want to admit haunted his nights. Especially after their encounter in the gym. There was the warm jasmine and lilies filling his nose again, and he _had_ to breathe it in; he couldn't stop.

And there she was, dressed in her gear; the black top that was cropped, leaving all of her smooth, tight stomach bare and the matching shorts with the hearts on the side while fishnet stockings kept her shapely legs from being bare and the white boots finished off the look.

Corn silk hair tumbled in alluring waves over her shoulders and down her back. His fingers flexed at his sides, this ache growing inside, to reach out and touch.

"You must be _the famous_ Talia we've all heard so much about around here." Her voice was warm, his heart did that thing where it jumped. "It's nice to finally meet you. You're just as pretty as your Daddy said you were."

"Even though," Sable eyes glared impressively, making Natayla laugh and there was his heart jumping once again. "Daddy messed up my hair?"

"Even though Daddy messed up your hair." She assured with a wink.

"As pretty as yours?" Skepticism reigned in Talia's tone and Nattie bent forward, _**fuck**_, Roman thought; his eyes unable to look away as the shorts revealed the ample curve of her bottom. "Prettier." He vaguely heard her whisper, and damn it, what the fuck was happening?!

Cause he shouldn't be wishing for her to whisper in his ear. She was married for fuck's sake. She took vows in front of her friends and family, and yeah her husband was a fucking douche, but so what?

A tug on his wrist brought him back, and easily when he found sable eyes staring up at him, he slipped back into what Dean affectionately called 'Dad Mode.' "What's up, babygirl?"

"Take a picture of me and Natayla, please?"

A shiver unfurled along the big man's spine as he watched Natayla wrap her arm around Talia while they wore matching big smiles on their faces. He felt his heart stutter in his chest as he glanced down at the picture that filled the screen of the Diva's phone. He was so fucking screwed.

The feeling of being screwed only grew worse when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

Clicking on the little twitter icon, he saw her tweet pop up in his timeline.

**_"natbynature WWERomanReigns Better watch out; I think he's got a future Diva on his hands!"_**

* * *

><p>"What's up with you, man?"<p>

"I don't even have to remind Talia not to talk with her mouth full and she's six."

"So fucking what," Dean shrugged, the dimple that made girls lose their panties in seconds appearing. "You love me anyway, Ro-Ro. Now, _seriously_, what's up with you?"

"Nothin', Deano."

Instantly Dean's nose wrinkled, "Don't fucking call me _that_."

Stealing a few chips off the other's plate, Roman's grin was smug. "Don't call me Ro-Ro then."

"Whatever." Dean dismissed, waving his hand. "Are you gonna tell me what the hell is up with you? Or am I gonna have to ask Renee?"

"Renee?" Roman arched a curious brow. "Why would Renee know something's up with me, but you wouldn't?"

"Woman's intuition or whatever spooky sixth sense she's got. You know it's true." He insisted at the raise of a brow from Roman. "She's like a goddamn track hound. If _I_ can't get it out of you, _she_ will. And don't give me some bull shit about how you're fine. Cause you're not. I know you, man. Somethin' ain't right." Dean's blue eyes flickered over Roman's otherwise stoic face, before narrowing and the other could literally see them sharpen. "Jessica isn't tryin' to pull anything is she?" His gravel tone was serious.

"It's not Jessica. If anything, she bends over backwards to give me time with Talia. You know that."

"No baby mama drama..." Dean mumbled and Roman rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Ro, spill your guts already. What the fuck is goin' on? Is it your back? Cause if that power ranger suit wearing sell out made it flare up again by siccing that overgrown Mr. Clean on you, I'll rip is dirty stinkin' hair out by the roots. And no damn cinder blocks are gonna stop me this time."

"Chill, man. It's not my back. I'm fine, I swear. Just let it go, all right?" A heavy sigh was in Roman's tone as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"No way. You know I'm like a dog with a bone. You might as well save yourself the aggravation and just tell me."

Roman was about to say something when suddenly Natayla's voice rang out. "It was just a tweet, TJ! I take pictures with kids all the time!"

The sound of heels clicking rapidly across tile floor came next. Then came a voice bellowing, "There you go again, Nattie, just walk away! Like you always do! I'm supposed to stand here and listen to you, but you get to just walk away, is that it?! Is that how it goes?!"

"I'm walking away because you're being an idiot, TJ! I mean, really, are you even listening to yourself?! I can't do this..." Hiccups that were rapidly becoming sobs could be heard as the heels grew closer.

"Damn it, Nattie!"

Natayla ended up barreling into Roman, clearly not caring for where she was going; just needing to get away. He steadied her just as TJ rounded the corner. Before he could make a move toward the blonde man, suddenly Dean was right in his face.

"The lady's upset," His voice was a ragged growl, his broad shoulders bunched with tension. "And from what I heard it's because of you. I suggest you take a walk, man. Let her cool out. If you don't, your head's goin' through that wall, and don't fucking test me, Kydd."

"Who the fuck are you, Ambrose?!"

"Guess your head's goin' through that wall, then..." Just as Dean made his move to advance, suddenly a soft tone was in his ear and the familiar feeling of smooth fingers soothing over his wrist was there, "Hey."

Cherry blossoms and vanilla calmed the rage clouding his vision and instead of TJ's extremely punchable face he saw the back of bouncy platinum curls. "Take a walk, TJ." Renee's tone was warning, then shifted to sympathy. "I'll take care of Nattie, okay?"

Then beautiful features were facing him, turning the vibrant red to a dulcet tone of blue. "Are you _trying_ to get yourself fired?"

"Kydd's a douche," Dean shrugged unapologetically. "If I put his head through that wall, I'd be doing him _and_ Nattie a favor. Now," He pouted. "What's gonna be my good deed for the year?"

Renee sighed as she shook her head, "What am I going to do with you?"

Dean flashed her his dimple and his signature lopsided smirk. "Tie me up later tonight and punish me?"

Rolling her eyes, the journalist slapped at his hand as he tried to pinch her ass, continuing on her way to Nattie who was still holding onto Roman. "Hey," her voice was gentle as she pried the other blonde away. "C'mon. Let's get you to the locker room, okay? I've got _just the thing_ to cheer you up."

"Oh, yeah?" Natayla wiped away a few stray tears, doing her best to ignore how she _suddenly_ felt icy cold without Roman's arms around her. "What's that?"

"You're a size seven and a half, right?" Renee glanced at Nattie's feet. "Well, Steve Madden sent me these _awesome_ purple snake skin pumps, but I'm a six so and I'd hate for them to go to waste, so..."

"You might just be my favorite person." Nattie laughed as Renee guided her down the hallway.

* * *

><p>Once again, Roman found the only person to be occupying the hotel's gym – this time they were in Omaha – to be Natayla. She was by the punching back in the corner, but sitting on the floor, staring off into space. She looked listless, her hazel eyes not sharp like they were in the ring or gleaming like they would when she'd smile. Instead they looked dull. His heart lurched forward.<p>

Sitting down next to her, he asked, "You okay?"

"Is it me?" Was barely a whisper, if he hadn't been sitting next to her he barely would've heard it.

"Is what you?" His brows furrowed down and he could feel his face contorting into confusion.

"Is it me?" Louder this time and insecurity coating every word, making his stomach drop. "Is is that I'm not like Nikki? Who does her body swivel? Or Summer who's always shaking her ass while she dances? Is it that I'd rather be home then go out to some club every night? Is it..." Words turning into soft sobs as hazel eyes became wide, practically begging for him to give relief.

"What the fuck are you _even_ talking about?"

"Ignorance doesn't suit you. Why would TJ _still_ want me when Nikki's out there throwing herself at him every night? Batting her lashes, blowing kisses, falling into his arms and acting like he's her hero. Why would _any man_ ever pick _me_ over _Nikki Bella_?"

The chair shot Seth had blindsided him with didn't hurt this much. Roman knew he was wading into dangerous waters. But wading into dangerous waters was less risky then trying to find Tyson Kydd and beating him to a pulp. Because what the fuck was wrong with him?! A gorgeous woman had promised – in front of their families and friends – him to be there forever; through better or worse, richer or poorer, and he was going to throw it away? And for what? To be Nikki's boy toy for a hot minute?

Or Summer's latest pawn in her revenge against Fandango?

Renee _should've_ let Dean put Kydd's head through that wall.

"I would." Leaves his lips before his brain can catch up with his mouth.

"What?" Breathless and full of disbelief falls off of trembling pink lips.

"I said I would. **_Fuck_**," Frustration bubbling over, fingers raking sharply through his hair. "Natayla haven't you **_ever_** looked in a goddamn mirror? Look, I'm not saying Nikki isn't beautiful cause she is, but so are you. It's a different beautiful. One that..." The smile crosses his mouth as he shakes his head. "Sneaks up on you, then it sinks into your skin and your bones, and doesn't let go. Next thing you know, you wonder how the fuck you could've been **_so_** blind. That's the kind of beautiful you are."

"I..." She's stumbling, confusion clouding her hazel eyes and his heart feels like Kane's about to give it a choke slam, the muscles are squeezing so tight. "You should have the world," Somehow he's got her face in his hands, when it happened he doesn't know, but he's touching her skin and it's porcelain and ivory, and it's so fucking smooth and... **_fuck_**. "You deserve it. And if you don't push me away, I'm gonna do something I _swore_ I'd _never_ do."

"What are you going to do?"

"Kiss you."

Roman's ready for Natayla to push him away. To feel her hands on his chest and then the heave, but there's nothing. There's only her looking at him with hazel eyes so open, he feels like he's staring into her soul, that he's seeing every piece that makes her whole. Heat surges in his veins and an intense burning coils around his heart.

Has he ever wanted **_anyone_** this bad? Has wanting anyone ever felt **_so damn_** consuming?

And he can't hold back, not any longer, and so he kisses her; finally giving into the longing that's plagued his days and haunted his nights.

How or when his lap became full of her and her fingers dived into his hair, and his tongue tasted hers, he doesn't know. All he knows is she's there and she's surrounding him. Jasmine and lilies. The coconut of her shampoo. Melding together with the burn of cinnamon that consumes them.

She's ivory against the caramel of his skin. She's as smooth as porcelain. But underneath there's the hardness of steel. Letting him know that she's not some delicate little thing he should be afraid to break. But at the same time, she's as precious as a gem. And should be treated as such.

They break apart when it's all too much; when they can't breathe, when the fog of lust slowly seeps away the instant their lips cease to move and their tongues become untangled.

It's beautiful; the way she looks, cornsilk waves a mess and tumbling every which way, hazel eyes dark as amber, pink lips smudged like the petals of tulips.

"I meant what I said," His breath his stilted, his words never more honest. "About you having the world and deserving it."

* * *

><p>There's no emotional confession, no running into each other's arms and exchanging a searing kiss. LIke they're reenacting some scene from a movie<p>

What there is; when she comes to his hotel room month's later, is her ring finger rubbing against his knuckle.

There's no metal there. Only bare skin. It's the most wonderful thing he's ever felt.

* * *

><p>He laughs when he finds her in Talia's room a few weeks after that; sitting on the edge of her bed and telling a story about a blonde princess and a handsome knight.<p>

Later when she slips into bed, he teases, "Handsome knight, huh?"

She rolls her eyes, elbowing him in the stomach and saying, "Just because I made you a handsome knight, doesn't mean you've taken down a Hart, Reigns."

"Oh, yeah," He husks out, lips mapping the path across her collarbone his fingers have taken every night since she came to his hotel room. "This," He sucks on a slowly fading bruise just above her left breast. "Says different, Neidhart."

"Please," She scoffs. "Don't you know? I always let you win."

"We'll see who wins tonight. If you can," His grey eyes sparkle like the finest silver, making her shudder underneath his hard body. "Keep quiet that is."

"Roman!" Her cheeks flush from embarrassment and he laughs, as he bites down teasingly. "I like you loud. You just, you know, can't be loud tonight. Tomorrow," His velvet tone is full of lusty promise as he raises his head, silver meeting hazel. "You can be as loud as you wanna be."

"Stop it!" She howls, but soon her voice is nothing more than a whimper of his name - "Roman" - over and over, and it's the sweetest song he's ever heard, and he thanks whoever's up there that he gets to hear it.


End file.
